


Red and Gold

by drelfina



Category: Naruto
Genre: Founders Era, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, bit of clothes porn, dressing., just because it's them in pretty clothes., technically just kissing., well it didn't get to the porn so it's clothes erotica?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21834313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drelfina/pseuds/drelfina
Summary: Madara really likes Izuna in that red and gold haori.
Relationships: Uchiha Izuna/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 26
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Perelka_L](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perelka_L/gifts).



> Because [Perelka's Art](https://perelka-l.tumblr.com/post/189720122793/cries-over-blazing-giving-izuna-and-madara)
> 
> And therefore smooch.

For all that Madara was the Clan Heir, he _knew_ that blue wasn't really his colour. 

Was it any Uchiha's real colour? Despite the deep indigo that they all wear, despite the expense of that dye, that show cases their wealth and social position, for formal occasions...

For temple days, for when they visit the Capital, though, they are like birds, he and his brother, Madara wears a midnight blue haori over his formal kimono but... 

The one he could't take his eyes off (and no one can really) was Izuna. 

Because Izuna is eye-catching in red and _gold_ , the Uchiwa stitched on in gold thread, marking him as the secondary heir after Madara, and it brought out the slight flush to his pale cheekbones, the bright red at his shoulders (before fading down to maroon at the waist) was the exact colour of his sharingan and. 

Izuna was _beautiful_. 

When Izuna inherits the positon of Heir (when Madara becames clan head), his colours would be the midnight blue haori that Madara was wearing right now - and he... 

he will do what he can, to make sure that time does not come. 

not yet.

(please, not yet.)

"Izuna -" Madara said, just as Izuna turned to slip the haori off his shoulders. 

"What, niisan?" Izuna said, blinking a little, the red (and gold) just loosened, revealing the dark maroon layer underneath. 

"Don't... take that off yet,"Madara said, and Izuna stared at him,fora long moment, and then grinned. 

"But i've undone the catch, niisan," he said, voice dropping down to a purr, sliding his fingers down the lapels of the haori, his index finger catching the gold silk cord and its tassel hanging from the edge. "So you're gonna have to do it up again, if it's to stay on."

That was an absolute lie. 

They both knew it. 

Madara had worn THIS colour, THIS haori before, when his older brothers were alive, and now it was Izuna's turn, since he was next, and the kumihimo cord was mainly decorative, it's only function to keep the haori straight . 

But Madara stepped forward anyway, snagging the tassel with his own fingers, sliding his hand over Izuna's calloused fingertips. 

"So I have to do it up again, do I?"

Izuna looked up at him, his smile quirking up to the side, eyes crinkling just a little in the way that meant he was being mischevious and didn't _care_ that Madara knew. 

Especially with the way his eyes were darkening even more. 

"Yes, niisan. It's your job." 

Madara's thumb slipped up to rub briefly over Izuna's palm. "My job?" He leaned in, still pleased that he was tall enough that Izuna _had_ to look up at him, and he could feel his own heart-rate twitch up at the way Izuna's lips parted just that fraction. "I could have our servants come."

"You _could_ ," Izuna murmured, leaning up, turning his hand so their fingers laced together instead, the cord trapped between their palms. He drew up, close, chin tipping a little. "Or. You could do it." 

His lips were so _close_ , all Madara had to do was lean in to close the distance. Just a breath... 

"You could do it yourself too." 

"But It wasn't me who wants me to keep this on. Niisan." 

Madara could FEEL his breath feather across his lips, smelling of green tea and azuki mochi from their dinner. This close, there's just a little of the azuki paste lingering red on Izuna's lips, and ...

Just waiting Just breathing. Teasing smile, parted lips... 

And Madara snagged the other side of the haori close over Izuna's shoulders, fisting the stiff fabric so he could pull Izuna in and close the last distance. 

Izuna all but purred against his lips and most definitely did _not_ do up his haori after _that_.


	2. Hanabi

Madara thinks he doesn't look good in blue. 

He hasn't seen himself in mirrors because he doesn't like them - and to be fair Izuna doesn't care for mirrors, not the polished brass that casts everything a somewhat sickly yellow. 

But Izuna can see him like this, stern and solid and looking up to the sky, the fireworks splaying everything with a riot of colours, fiery flowers blooming across his skin and painting it down his midnight blue haori. 

"Niisan?" he says, and Madara looks down at him, eyes all focused on HIM and only him, the explosions of fireworks spraying across the sky suddenly just... fading down because Madara's focus is dark and intense, taking up all of Izuna's attention. 

"Yes?" 

shadows ripple across Madara's face, and it's like a living statue straight from the temple. Madara, his older brother, perfect and solid and always _there_. A god that always turns to Izuna when he asks... 

Izuna reaches up, sliding his hands across Madara's cheeks, and Madara lets him tug him down, and the fireworks in the sky fade against the heated fire of Madara's lips on his.


	3. Wall

There's something about Madara's strength that steals Izuna's breath away. 

For all that he looks like a statue come to life, he breaths and pants and grunts and growls - his strength takes _effort_ , and it's all the more visceral for that. 

For the way Madara pins him to the wall, his body between Izuna's legs, against his chest, like an inferno, and Izuna can't help but twist his hands onto his brother's shoulders, and _gasp_ when Madara hefts him _up_ and Izuna can feel those muscles shift, corded and bunched with power and strength, under his own hands as Madara pushes him up, upagainst the wall, probably roughing up the haori but it doesn't matter.

Doesn't matter because Madara's mouth is on his throat now, biting at the collars of his clothing till he can sear his mouth against Izuna's neck and he knows Madara can feel his heart beat. 

Pulsing in time with Madara's chakra, like the flares of the sun, burning against his skin.

And then Madara just hooks his arms under Izuna's knees, and pushes, and Izuna just folds up like origami, until Izuna locks his ankles against the high of Madara's spine, digging in gasps out a soft, breathless, _niisan....!_ soft and ephemeral like smoke, and Madara's mouth is against Izuna's ear, nipping.

"What do you want, Izuna?" 

And so, Izuna begs. 

_Please. Please please niisan. want you. Want you so much-_

and of course. 

Madara always does give him what he wants.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Draped in Red and Gold (and Nothing Else)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835549) by [CreativeSweets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeSweets/pseuds/CreativeSweets)
  * [Resplendent (in Red and Gold)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21847525) by [drelfina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drelfina/pseuds/drelfina)




End file.
